


Project Freelancer: The Mother of Invention Chronicles

by NefariousTillDeath



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Carwash Siblings (Red vs. Blue), F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Project Freelancer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:06:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10473225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NefariousTillDeath/pseuds/NefariousTillDeath
Summary: The accounts of Project Freelancer from the very beginning.Everyone knows about the Reds and the Blues, but very little is known about their predecessors, the elite special operations soldiers known as the Freelancers. What if all their stories - every secret - was revealed?These are the chronicles of Project Freelancer.





	1. Phase One: The First Freelancers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I apologize in advance for the spacing on this work, I know it's difficult to read. I will edit the spacing when my computer is back up and running. Please bear with me as I'm posting this from my iPad!~~
> 
>  
> 
> I finally had access to a computer to edit the layout! Hopefully it's easier to read now!

“Project Freelancer is a state of the art scientific endeavor, with one goal in mind: to ensure the security of humanity in a harsh and violent galaxy…” the man muttered to himself, reading the words off the page, “I suppose that’s one way to put it.” He slipped the paper back into a folder and tossed the folder in a drawer. He turned from his desk and took a moment to consider what he was about to do. So much of his life rode on this proposition, on this gamble. He thought of CJ, of David, and of Allison. What would the future hold for them if he succeeded? If he failed? If he didn’t proceed with his plans at all? Was there too much at stake, or would the end justify the means in this case?

 

  
“Only one way to find out, Leonard,” he chuckled to himself, “You’ve just gotta do it.”

 

 

 

╩ ╩ ╩

 

 

 

A young boy, only fifteen years old, sat eagerly behind his science fair booth, waiting for the teachers to come and observe his project. He’d created a running combustion engine from old lawnmower parts and some parts he’d stolen from his brother’s dirt bike. So far, it had started and run for a full five minutes every time he’d tried it. The real test would be getting it to work for the judges. Little Michael J. Caboose had spent every night the previous four weeks working hard to build his little engine. He’d always had an aptitude for creating, building… engineering. This science fair was his chance to prove to his teachers how much he really knew about engineering. His science teacher, Mr. Gilman, had promised to get him into specialized engineering classes if he could create a working combustion engine for the science fair, and now his moment of truth had come.

 

  
Mr. Gilman, who was a tall and spindly man with a moustache that covered the better part of his lips and chin, strode up to Michael’s booth alongside six other teachers. Michael hadn’t ever had any of the other teachers before; in fact, he didn’t even recognise their faces from the hallway. A tiny chill of fear gripped him, and he felt cold and anxious. An encouraging smile from Mr. Gilman was all it took to cure him of his reluctance.

 

  
“Mr. Caboose, would you care to explain to us your invention?” one of the teachers, a short and round lady with matching short and round hair, asked, peering over the edge of her magenta spectacles at his engine.

 

  
“Ah, yea- yes! Yes, ma’am, or, yes,” he stumbled through his words. Mr. Gilman just nodded, and Caboose swallowed hard before he continued, “I have here a simplified combustion engine, which I made using only parts from my dad’s old lawnmower and my brother’s dirtbike.”

 

  
“Why don’t you go ahead and get it running, then, Mike?” Mr. Gilman imparted Caboose to give it a test. Michael nodded and pulled the string he’d cut from the lawnmower.  
The engine gurgled a little and fell silent. Michael’s face blushed, and he tugged the cord again. Nothing. He grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled as hard as he could, but still no reaction from the engine. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed. He knew the engine worked, so it just had to be a matter of time before it started. He put both hands on the handle and yanked hard, and the engine roared to life and sat sputtering on the table. The judges met this with an impressed round of applause. Michael looked to Mr. Gilman for his reaction: a big smile, visible only by his eyes, and a proud thumbs-up.

 

  
“Congrats, Mike! Now we can get serious about engineering classes!” Mr. Gilman exclaimed as he offered his hand to Michael for a high five. The slap was so loud it frightened the short and round teacher, and it left Mr. Gilman’s hand stinging. Michael couldn’t feel the burning sensation in his hand; he was too focused on his excitement to notice anything else.

 

 

“Thanks, oh thanks so much, Mr. Gilman!” he exclaimed, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 

  
“Of course, Mike! We made a deal, didn’t we?” Mr. Gilman replied, “and you’ll never guess what I’ve found for you…”

 

 

 

        ╩   ╩   ╩

 

 

 

Takeshi Ishikawa was seventeen years old when his Judo coach recommended he search out a more serious place to apply his skills. He’d considered going pro, where he could fight others for cash prizes, but for Takeshi, the idea of fame was repulsive. He didn’t want cameras flashing in his face and fans idolizing him. He wanted to live a life unaffected by fame or popularity. He also wanted to continue his training in Judo, and he hoped to eventually add in a form of Jiu Jitsu if he could find a coach skilled enough to teach him.

 

  
“Vy don’t you ask Dalgaard, den, if he’d teach you?” his mother suggested one morning when he had complained about finding a new teacher, “at least dat vould be better dan just vining like a brat.”

 

  
Inessa, Takeshi’s mother, was always very supportive of his combat training. She’d always said he would make a brilliant soldier, especially in hand-to-hand combat. She had no ill-wishes for her son, for she truly loved him more than anything else in the world, but she wasn’t one to keep him in a safe and comfortable world either. She more than once got scolded by other parents for her recklessness with her son, but she ignored them and carried on with Takeshi the way she always had. Of course, with both her and her late husband, Aiko, being ex-gang members, she was inclined to build her son into a force to be reckoned with.

 

  
“Dat crazy old man?” Takeshi countered, glancing sideways at Inessa in disapproval, “da only stuff he ever talks about is ‘getting his ass back to Sveden’.”

 

  
“Learning to fight has nodding to do vit talking, dumbass,” she retorted with a smile, shoving Takeshi with her bare foot.

 

  
“But if he’s only going to talk, and he only talks about Sveden, how vill I ewer learn to fight?” Takeshi countered by catching Inessa’s ankle in his hand and turning her around.

 

  
“Let go,” she said.

 

  
“Make me,” Takeshi grunted.

 

  
Inessa jumped off the ground with such force she broke Takeshi’s grip with ease. Mid-air, she turned and kicked the previously-trapped leg right at her son’s face. He merely leaned back in his chair and let the tug of air pass by him.

 

  
“Gotta be quicker dan dat, now, mama,” he teased.

 

  
“Smart ass,” she chuckled before she clubbed him gently on the side of the head.

 

  
“Rather be a smart ass dan a dumb ass,” he said with a grin. Inessa picked her coffee off of the table and drank half the mug in one swig. Takeshi drummed his fingers on the table, creating a steady rhythm. Inessa studied her son’s tense hand and abnormally quick drumming.

 

  
“Vat is it?” she asked. She cocked one dark brow so low her eye was half shut, and the other raised so high it looked as if it might fly right off her face.

 

  
“I found a place vere I might be able to learn some stuff,” Takeshi answered quietly.

 

  
“Really?” Inessa asked in excitement. She pulled out the chair across from Takeshi and sat down, leaning so far over the table she was practically nose-to-nose with her son.

 

  
“Da UNSC is taking in recruits,” he explained, “da enlistment deadline is coming up.”

 

  
“How soon?” Inessa questioned.

 

  
“Dree weeks, two days,” Takeshi replied.

 

  
Inessa leaned back and sipped her coffee slowly as she considered his proposition. She gently set her glass down; she laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. While she thought, Takeshi admired his mother. Her long, unkempt, black hair fell around her shoulders like brambles around a tree trunk. He was grateful he’d inherited her high-set cheekbones rather than his father’s ridiculous, wide jaw. She had chiseled, thin lips and well-refined brows, the color of which contrasted greatly with her striking, pale skin. Hidden under her dark eyelids were the brightest, bluest eyes Takeshi had ever seen. He hadn’t inherited either of these traits, as his father had had dark brown eyes and the tanned skin of a construction worker.

 

  
Her eyes flashed open, and a crazy smile spread across her face. “Ve’d better get vorking on you, den. Dree veeks isn’t much time to prepare!” she exclaimed.

 

  
“Dree weeks and two days,” Takeshi corrected her. He needed all the time he could get, in his opinion, anyway.

 

  
“Right, two measly extra days. Ve’ll see vhat becomes of dem,” she teased, “Da UNSC, huh?”

 

  
Takeshi nodded.

 

 

 

╩ ╩ ╩

 

 

 

Five years earlier, on that very same day, Takeshi Ishikawa had been deployed to basic training with the UNSC. He was admitted into a special operations preliminary testing program less than one year later, and when he turned eighteen, he was admitted into the secondary spec-ops testing program. He continued to climb ranks in the testing program, and had graduated the academy alongside a single member of his previous platoon. Now, he had been assigned to the Project Freelancer Alpha Team. Alpha Team was sent to the Mother of Invention, the UNSC’s largest carrier ship, which was stationed in the Milky Way galaxy, just past Jupiter.

 

  
This was the day he and Michael Caboose would be leaving Earth for the foreseeable future. Until now, they had been stationed at various forts across Earth and Earth’s moon, but that was before they’d been formally enlisted into the special operations program, Project Freelancer. He and his companion, Caboose, had both achieved Sergeant rank in their years in the preliminary testing program and had graduated at the top of their class.

 

  
Takeshi had met Michael on his very first day of training. Michael had just graduated from the UNSC’s specialized engineering program only a week prior to enlisting in the spec-ops prelim testing. Takeshi remembered seeing Michael: he was bright-eyed and bushy-haired, lanky and anxious. He wasn’t sure what had led him to strike up conversation with Michael, but by whatever chance of fate, they’d somehow become best friends. Now, the two were inseparable - although Takeshi hated to admit it. It was Takeshi who’d taught Michael how to fight in hand-to-hand combat, and in exchange, whenever other soldiers went too far with height jokes directed at Takeshi, Michael would swiftly remove them from the premises.

 

  
Takeshi loved being Michael’s combat teacher. While Michael appeared to be the weak and nerdy type, he actually possessed seemingly-inhuman strength. Takeshi approached the task of teaching Michael to channel his power into precise attacks like his own personal science experiment. He’d never been a teacher before, so he took the task extremely seriously. They spent as much time as they could after-hours on the training deck, practicing all sorts of specialized moves Takeshi had learned in Judo. Michael proved to be an incredibly quick learner, and by the time they graduated, he could hold his own against Takeshi.

 

  
Takeshi had only ever met two people against whom he actually struggled in combat: Caroline Church, and Balthazar Mészarós, members of a sister team that ran a similar spec-ops prelim training program to the one Takeshi and Michael had gone through. Takeshi only got to fight against them twice during his five years in the program: once during shore leave, when he’d stayed behind to train and was able to assist in one of their training exercises; and the second time when he’d received special permission from his C.O. to fight them on the training deck in an arranged match. Both times he lost to both opponents.

 

  
Takeshi had been informed that Caroline and Balthazar had also completed the spec-ops prelim training, also at the top of their class, and would also be stationed on the M.o.I. Takeshi was both excited and apprehensive, for he did not know whether they would be teammates or if the herd would yet be thinned. He wondered if he would be able to advance further in the program if he had to jockey with Caroline and Balthazar.

 

  
Reality and present matters of interest came flooding back into Takeshi’s mind as he recognized Michael’s voice trying to get his attention through the haze. He pulled himself out of his own mind and focused on his partner.

 

  
“‘S’up?” he asked, suddenly realizing he’d been walking and following Michael for the duration of his thought session. They were inside something, maybe a building or maybe a ship, but he couldn’t say where.

 

  
Michael sighed, “We’ve boarded the Mother of Invention and you didn’t even notice.”

 

  
Takeshi grunted, “Alright. Vat are ve doing now?”

 

  
“We’re going to find Caroline. One of the privates asked if we were Sergeants Caboose and Ishikawa, because Sergeant Church is looking for us,” Michael explained. Takeshi nodded.

 

  
“I guess ve’ve gotta go find Caroline, den,” he muttered. He stepped around Michael and took long, purposeful strides. He spotted a private ahead, discernable by his plain, light-gray under armor body suit. “Hey, kid, any idea vere Sergeant Church is?”

 

 

“Oh, yeah, you’re Sergeant Isha… waka… ji-”

 

  
“Ishikawa. Vere’s Church?” he pressed, not caring enough to waste time talking to the private.

 

  
“She’s still in the debriefing room. It’s just up one level… It’s right above us, actua-”

 

  
“Great,” Takeshi interjected, cutting the young man off. He waved his hand for Michael to follow and hurried off toward the gravity lift. Michael hurried behind him, muttering an apology to the private.

 

  
Takeshi located the debriefing room with ease, as there were helpful signs posted on the second floor. He scanned his dog tags at the door and entered with Michael in tow. Caroline, Balthazar, and two other soldiers he’d never met were discussing something, all of them standing around the holodeck. He marched up and butted in between Balthazar and one of the unknown soldiers, a short young woman with wild red hair.

 

  
“Takeshi, Michael, I see you’ve finally decided to join us,” Caroline teased, “in all seriousness, though, we can actually go over our orders now.” She tapped the top of the holodeck, which brought up a list of names followed by a list of instructions.

 

  
“First things first are teams,” the little unknown lady said in a soft and sweet voice, “Caroline, it looks like that’ll be myself, you, Butch, and Takeshi,” she read. She turned to look at Takeshi, “Sorry, I didn’t introduce everyone here. I guess you know Caroline, huh?” Takeshi nodded. “I’m Amelie Bitters, this is Butch Flowers, and this-”  
“-is Balthazar,” Takeshi interrupted. Amelie screwed up her face in mock indignation before she broke out in a big toothy smile featuring dimples to boot.  
“Of course, I guess if you know Caroline, you probably know Balthazar too, huh?” she chuckled.

 

  
“Pleased as punch to meet the both of you!” Butch interjected with a smile. He was a tall man with a sturdy yet surprisingly unintimidating appearance, especially for a man named Butch.

 

  
Then again, Takeshi thought, with a surname like Flowers, you don’t necessarily get to be a big, scary guy like Balthazar. True to Takeshi’s comparison, Balthazar was a gigantic, hulking mass of a man. He was easily six-foot-seven, and he was stronger than Michael. He also sported a shaved head and an array of tattoos. If all of that wasn’t impressive enough, he had the lowest and graveliest voice Takeshi had ever heard, and he was a man of few words.

 

  
“Welly-well, we were talking about teams, right?” Amelie resumed, “Caroline, looks like you’re heading up Team One, and your Privates will be… Winter and Animashawn.”  
“Amelie,” Takeshi interjected suddenly, “who are you?” Amelie turned away from the holodeck to face Takeshi head-on. She, and most of the others in the room, looked perplexed and confused by Takeshi’s question.

 

  
It had occurred to Takeshi in that short span of time that Amelie wasn’t a run-of-the-mill Sergeant. She didn’t have the physique of a soldier, much less a spec-ops space marine; she was far too cheery and giggly to qualify as a drill sergeant or an intimidating authority figure; and she certainly didn’t bear the wear and tear a Sergeant should boast after six or seven years in service.

 

  
“Wh-what?” she asked.

 

  
“Vhy are you here?” Takeshi reiterated. She looked only more confused. “You didn’t go drough bootcamp, or any of the preliminary testing, so how did you become a Sergeant, and vhy are you here?”

 

  
“Oh,” she said, finally understanding what he was getting at. The others became even more lost as to what Takeshi was getting at, and they had no idea what Amelie meant by her sudden realization. “Technical specialist, or in layman's terms, I’m a hacker,” she answered, “I sort of skipped through bootcamp on a few technicalities and some… special recommendations to the Director by my superiors. But how did you know?”

 

  
“Yust a guess,” he muttered, “so anyvay, teams,” he jumped back to their previous topic as though he hadn’t derailed it in the first place. Amelie returned to the holodeck screen and tapped through the next set of files.

 

  
“Takeshi,” she continued, “you’ll be heading up Team Two, with Caboose and… Donut?” she paused for a moment, considering the odd names before she shook her head and resumed, “I’ll head up Team Three with Grif and Stiles; and Butch, you’ve got Team Four, Mészarós and Clancy.”

 

  
“Anything else we need to cover while we’re here?” Caroline asked.

 

  
Amelie skimmed through the debriefing orders, “Ah, yes, there’s one more thing,” she paused to read more thoroughly, “it says here we’re being assigned codenames.”  
“Codenames?” Butch asked, “well, that sure sounds like buckets of fun! What are they?”

 

  
“I’ll send them to your personal files, since you’ll be responsible for your team’s names as well,” she said, closing the holodeck, “in that case, that’s all for today! Don’t forget, your teams will be arriving today at sixteen-hundred, so be ready and waiting for them in the loading bay!”

 

  
“They seem nice,” Michael commented, “I’m excited to work with them, aren’t you?”

 

  
“Hmpff…” Takeshi grunted, “I dunno about dat.”

 

  
“You’re being so negative! Would it kill you to be a little bit happy for once?” Michael jabbed.

 

  
“Y’know, it actually might,” Takeshi grumbled. Michael chuckled, and then the two burst out laughing. “Vat a vay to go,” Takeshi pondered aloud, “if you did something nice or even smiled, and den you just keel over.”

 

  
“That’s not a very happy thing to think about,” Michael chided.

 

  
“Vell, now that ve’ve considered the possibility of deadt by joy, I can’t be too careful, can I?” Takeshi countered, his tone serious and his brows knitted firmly together. “In all seriousness, I vant to know more about dem.”

 

  
“Me too!” Michael said.

 

  
“If Amelie skipped drough all of bootcamp yust because she’s a hacker, vat kinds of dings hawe the others been able to skip, and for vat?” Takeshi wondered.

 

  
“Well, we know Caroline and Balthazar went through bootcamp,” Michael added, “and Caroline is a martial arts specialist, just like you! Balthazar and I are both tanks, but I’m also an engineer,” Michael continued, pausing to think for a moment, “So we have one hacker, two martial arts specialists, two tanks, and one engineer… What do you think the others are?”

 

  
“You’re implying dat ve’re all here to fulfill a specific role,” Takeshi said, pushing Michael to explain.

 

  
“Well, yeah,” he said, seemingly frustrated, “obviously they could have taken any strong soldiers if that was what they needed, but there were perfectly good soldiers in prelim training with us that didn’t pass examination. The only thing that was different between them and us was our special fields of practice and study.”

 

  
Takeshi hadn’t realized this before, but hearing Michael explain it, all the pieces fell into place. Suddenly the seemingly random cuts in ranks made sense. It explained why he and Michael were the only two from their squadron to pass the exams: only those with outstanding proficiency in a specific field or skill would be accepted into Project Freelancer. That meant the others definitely had special skill sets outside of what was normally required of your run-of-the-mill UNSC soldier.

 

  
“I bet ve can wiew deir files somevhere,” Takeshi suggested. Michael shook his head.

 

  
“Amelie would know more about this than me, but classified information and personal data wouldn’t be stored somewhere that anyone could reach them. We can view our own files, but it’s impossible to see the others without doing some serious dirty work,” he explained.

 

 

“I guess ve’ll just have to find out de old-fashioned vay, den,” Takeshi sighed, “vait and see.”

 

  
“Hey,” Michael interjected, “pull up your holoscreen.” Takeshi cocked a quizzical brow at Michael, but he pressed the button on his watch and held his arm so they could both see the screen.

 

  
“Check your emails,” Michael pressed, “so we can see our codenames, dummy!”

 

  
Takeshi swiped through the panels and selected his email, and he tapped the newest one, which was titled “External Security and Code Names” from sgt.bitt. He scrolled past everything until he saw the “Team Two” header.

 

  
“Alright… I’m… ‘Yeorgia’?!” he asked, indignant, “Vat the hell kind of name is that?”

 

  
“Says I’m ‘Utah’,” Michael read, “d’ya think they’re naming us after American states?”

 

  
“Hell if I know,” Takeshi muttered, “I didn’t study dat shit.”

 

  
“Ooh! It says our other teammate is California!” Michael said, ignoring Takeshi’s displeasure, “They’re arriving tomorrow, aren’t they, the new recruits?”  
“Mhm,” Takeshi grunted. He closed the holoscreen and resumed walking.

 

  
“I’m so excited!” Michael exclaimed, “I’m sure you will be too, once you meet them.” He said this with such confidence and joy that Takeshi couldn’t help but believe him, even if he himself wasn’t entirely pleased with the idea of training Privates.


	2. Phase Two: New Recruits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first six Freelancers have all been assigned to teams, and for the first time, they alone are responsible for making sure their trainees are fit for special operations missions. Will they be able to reign in and teach their students, or will everything crash and burn?

“Kaikaina, wait up!” a young male recruit called as he chased his friend down the hall.

 

“I’m not even going that fast, Frankie! Bust ass if you’re so desperate to be up here with me!” the woman shouted, “You should be able to outrun me by now!”

 

If someone were to look at the two soldiers while they were standing still, most likely they wouldn’t recognize either one as a soldier. The man was tall, lithe, and though his upper body looked remotely fit, he looked like he’d never conditioned his legs once in his life. He definitely looked like he had potential to be a soldier, but not in his current state. The woman was short and chubby. Her hips were wider than her shoulders, her tummy jiggled when she walked, and her arms were as thick as her partner’s.

 

When Takeshi first saw them, his best guess was that they were some kind of hackers or linguists. Surprisingly enough, he was half-right. Although the two were loud and troublesome, they both seemed to work together as a fine-tuned machine. Franklin, who Kaikaina lovingly called “Frankie”, had been assigned to Takeshi’s team; Kaikaina was on Amelie’s team, and she was codenamed Agent Hawaii.

 

Kaikaina, paying more attention to who was behind her than what lie ahead, ran right around a tight corner without a care what was around the other side. She collided with two people, both new recruits. She was knocked over onto her butt, and she was dazed. When she regained her senses, she looked up and saw two well-built men, both looking equal parts confused and upset. One was a tall, dark-skinned man with tight braids down to his waist. The other was a skinny man with flaming red hair and freckles. Takeshi, who had been walking a few yards behind the two of them, and subsequently seen Kaikaina crash into them, was furious. He closed his eyes tight and furrowed his brow. His lips were pursed so tightly that they turned white. He breathed deeply through his nose, and then he suddenly exploded in a fit of rage.

 

“Vat the everliwing hell do you two dink you’re doing?” he shouted, startling the two men opposite Kaikaina. Franklin nervously stepped around the corner to face his commanding officer. “Vy on God’s green earth vould you dink dis vas appropriate behawior? Gal damn it all,” he growled.

 

“Sergeant Ishi-” the red-haired man began, only to be cut off by Takeshi.

 

“MADDER FAHKER!” he shouted; spit spattered on the Private’s face, “I svear to God, Arizona, use my name one more time, and I’LL MAKE SURE IT’SA LAST DING DAT COMES OUTTAV YOUR FAHKING MOUTD!” Takeshi practically hurled the words at Arizona, who was cringing next to his friend.

 

“Hawaii! Kelifornia! Front. And. Center,” he said, the flames in his eyes cooled slowly. “De fahk do you dink you’re doing? Making fools outtav me and Visconsin. It’s disgusting!” he paused for a moment and flashed a dirty look at Arizona and the other soldier, and they turned tail and left. “Get your gotdamn asses out of my sight, or I svear to God I’ll make your liwes liwing hell for de next montd!” Hawaii and California nodded and marched off in the direction of the barracks.

 

“God,” Takeshi sighed, “it’s only been a montd and dey’re already driwing me crazy. I honestly don’t know how de odders are handling dem.”

 

Michael chimed in calmly from where he was standing behind Takeshi. “Now, now, don’t work yourself up, dear, or you’ll be worthless as a Sergeant today. I’d have to take your place, and quite frankly I haven’t been informed about the specifics of tonight’s training regimen,” he teased.

 

Takeshi exhaled deeply and shut his eyes. Michael softly placed one hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle nudge forward, and the two followed in the direction their underlings had gone.

 

╩ ╩ ╩

 

Both Carolina and Florida had previously been drill instructors at their respective forts, and would therefore be the commanding officers of the group for the foreseeable future. Carolina was in charge of the first day of training, and all the Privates were curious to see what special skill had qualified her for Project Freelancer. The training deck was completely clear. No walls or ditches had been set up; there were no weapons, and there were no training holograms. It was just Carolina, standing before the other eleven soldiers, and an enormous, empty room.

 

“The most basic method of combat,” Carolina began, her commanding voice filled the room, “is hand-to-hand combat. Of course, you’ve all studied this form of fighting to a degree, but in order to become elite special operations soldiers, you’ve got to master this skill,” she paused, eyeing all the men and women in their gray-and-black under-armor suits, “let loose.” She charged into the group and knocked Hawaii over with one well-placed punch to the sternum. Everyone leapt into the fight, trying to recall the things they’d learned months ago. Maine stood his ground at first, as he took out Arizona with one swift punch. He seemed disinterested in the hand-to-hand combat until Michael charged at him and knocked him clean off of his feet.

 

Everyone - except Takeshi and Carolina - gasped as the smaller of the two gained the upper hand. Takeshi had seen Michael fight with so many soldiers, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest. During one of their last sparring matches, Michael had managed to flip an M12B Warthog Jeep off it’s wheels and crush the hull. Bowling over one man of mighty stature was nothing compared to that feat. Maine growled and stood up, and then he rolled his head to crack his neck. He roared and charged full-force at Michael. Michael didn’t brace himself, but instead kicked off the ground and ran at Maine. As they neared each other, it appeared they would knock heads, but just as Michael was within arm’s reach, Maine plucked him up off the ground and hurled him across the floor. Michael groaned as he tumbled across the training deck. Maine huffed.

 

Meanwhile, Hawaii had stood back up and had fitted Arkansas’s head between her legs. He was fighting to get her off of him, and Takeshi could tell by the way he strained that she was crushing him with an impressive force. While he was reaching for her, she let herself lurch back, still keeping her legs tight against his head, but bringing her arms down to his knees. She formed fists, and threw two heavy hits into the backs of his knees, and he crumpled to the ground. She leapt away and practically started climbing Carolina, but this time, she wrapped her legs around Carolina’s waist, and her arms around the taller woman’s neck. Takeshi watched as her muscles tensed and strained against Carolina, but just before she could lock herself in place, Carolina did a barrel roll straight onto Hawaii. Hawaii wasn’t injured, but the shock of the sudden movement and pressure of being underneath Carolina caused her to lose her grip.

 

Wyoming was holding his own against Connecticut until Arkansas caught him in the side with something like a crude karate chop. Carolina had just tackled Arizona to the ground, and Takeshi turned his attention away from Wisconsin and California to square up against Maine. He was anxious to see how he would fare this time against the bigger man. In ten minutes time, he was still holding his own against Maine. Michael had gotten back into the fight, and he was sparring alongside Wisconsin against Florida and California.

 

In nearly seventeen short minutes, Georgia, Carolina, Maine, Wisconsin, Florida, and Utah were the only ones still standing. Everyone else had surrendered or didn’t have the strength to stand up again. The six weren’t unfazed, though: sweat was beaded on their brows, and they were short of breath. Even the best combatants had to get a little tired, and Takeshi knew this. He was okay with it in this instance, because he’d spent the majority of his time sparring with Maine, who had eventually overpowered him in the end.

 

“Tomorrow morning, then, o-five-hundred,” Carolina concluded at the end of combat training. Everyone was beet red and dripping sweat, chests heaving from lack of air. Takeshi had his arms locked together behind his head to help him catch his breath. Somehow, Maine had kept his breath throughout all the training, despite the beads of sweat and heat coming off his body. He’d fought harder and faster than all the other Freelancers, no doubt, and yet he seemingly wasn’t as tired.

 

Takeshi had briefly been on a team with Maine in their previous training camp, along with Michael and a handful of other soldiers who hadn’t made it to the project. He knew Maine’s fighting style inside and out, and he and Maine had developed their own language to use while in combat. They’d tried to explain it to Michael, but he couldn’t grasp the concept, so Takeshi stuck to verbal cues and standard Marine hand signals. He planned to use this to his advantage for as long as possible in order to secure good standing for himself and Maine. Michael and Carolina both had their own specialties to give them an advantage over the others, so he wasn’t concerned for them.

 

“Georgia?” Michael interrupted his train of thought, “getting a little lost there?”

 

The corner of Takeshi’s mouth tugged up in a faint grin, and he gave Michael a nudge, “Like alvays.”

 

A laugh in the form of a quiet grunt escaped Maine, and Takeshi responded with a swift kick to his shins. Of course, it didn’t do much to upset Maine’s balance, but it did lure out a second chuckle.

 

“I still can’t believe you both made it all the way through training,” Carolina said. Maine grunted in agreement.

 

Michael laced his fingers with Takeshi’s and grinned so wide that his cheeks forced his eyes shut, “I couldn’t let my best friend get left behind! He wouldn’t survive without me. He’d probably start thinking about something and get so distracted he would die. Besides,” he paused to glance at Takeshi, “he’s my sunshine, Lina!” Takeshi's dark cheeks turned red, and he rolled his eyes.

 

“Sunshine? Really, Utah?” he grumbled.

 

Michael waggled his eyebrows and bent down so his face was even with Takeshi’s, “Coulda said ‘lover’,” he teased. Takeshi just gently pushed him away with a huff. Carolina laughed.

 

“You’re such a damn fool, Utah,” Takeshi growled through tight lips, although he was blushing, “like I vould be da one getting left behind.” Maine chuckled again, and he nudged Georgia on the shoulder. “Oh, ken it, you ower-sized paperveight,” Takeshi huffed.

 

“Well, I’m in the mood for a shower, so I’ll see you boys tomorrow,” Carolina interjected with a small, short wave and a smooth turn. Maine grunted something that sounded like “me too” and followed Carolina out.

 

“Shover sounds good,” Takeshi muttered tiredly.

 

╩ ╩ ╩

 

“So, Hawaii,” Arizona said, sliding down the bench at the table, “that thing you did to Arkansas today was pretty cool. You think you could show me how that works?”

 

“Unless you’re asking me to teach you how to incapacitate someone in combat using only your body, we’re not having this conversation,” Hawaii huffed.

 

“Oh, I definitely want to see how you incapacitate people with your body,” Arizona said stupidly.

 

Hawaii leaned across the table and took Arizona’s chin in her hand so her chest was extremely close to his face. “Tell you what,” she said in a sultry voice, “why don’t you ask me that again on the training floor, and I won’t just incapacitate you,” she paused, smirking evilly, “I’ll just crack your goddamn skull in half and feed your brain to Maine.” Arizona pulled away in shock.

 

Maine growled, “Don’t eat brains.” Hawaii shot him a dirty look, then returned her attention to Arizona. She stepped up onto the table, looming over him. Then she hurled him off the bench, leaving him in a crumpled pile on the floor.

 

“Cut the shit, Arizona,” she jeered as she dumped the remains of her dinner on his face. She turned, walking down the length of the table top. She braced herself to jump off, but she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, and by the way,” she said sweetly, “I’m serious about killing you on the training deck. Choose your words wisely, douchebag!” She jumped off the table and landed lightly on the ground without a sound before she strolled out of the dining hall, whistling while she went.

 

“Nice one, Pigsty,” Arkansas chuckled, stepping around the defeated redhead. Arizona groaned under a small pile of mashed potatoes and carrots.

 

“Florida,” Arizona whined as he reached one pathetic, trembling hand out, “help me.”

 

“So sorry there, pal, but I’m going to have to let you solve this pickle on your own!” Florida chuckled.

 

“What? Why?” Arizona complained.

 

“You may be one of my dearest friends in the whole galaxy, but Hawaii really got you with a zinger there! I have to respect a job well done!” he explained, stepping around his destroyed friend.

 

“Wyoming, you’ll help an old war buddy, woncha?” Arizona asked.

 

Wyoming’s chuckle was muffled by his thick, handlebar mustache, “I’m afraid not, old chap. I’m all in with Florida on this particular predicament. Don’t fret! I’m positive you’ll weasel your way out of this one!”

 

Arizona sighed, and little bits of potato flew out of his mouth. He pulled himself off the ground and brushed the food debris out of his hair.

 

╩ ╩ ╩

 

Takeshi and Michael were the first ones to the training floor the next morning. In their previous training, they had always started the day at three AM. Even though training aboard the M.o.I. didn’t start until five, they couldn’t break the habit just yet. They figured it at least gave them some time to train and warm up before they had to spar against Balthazar and Caroline. They practiced some of their older regimens before Takeshi decided to change strategy and figured out some possible ways to fight against Maine.

 

“If ve take him doo-on-doo, ve might heff a chance to tek him out,” Takeshi said, “see, if ve ken hit him from doo different sides, he’ll probably loose his belance and den ve ken down him.”

 

“I see what you’re saying, but we would have to be perfectly in sync to hit him in the right places at the right time. We’d essentially have to practice it with him, which would nullify the whole thing in the end,” Michael countered.

 

“Vell, vat do you dink ve should do?” Takeshi retorted, genuinely interested to see if Michael had any ideas.

 

“Okay, stand over there and pretend to be Maine,” Michael said, pointing to a spot about twenty feet away from where they were. Takeshi jogged over and found his footing before flashing a big growl and a scary face. Michael chuckled.

 

“Alright, moron, I get the picture,” he laughed, “just brace yourself for the attack.” Takeshi complied and he bent his legs and tensed his feet, preparing himself to be hit by a force like a train.

 

Much to Takeshi’s surprise, Michael didn’t charge at him. Instead, he slowly circled Takeshi like a lion. He eventually reached a pace that was rhythmic and almost hypnotic. Michael was gauging Takeshi’s alertness, noting when he was using peripheral vision and when he was relying solely on his ears to target Michael. He waited until he found the point where Takeshi had to switch from hearing to seeing, and he launched himself full-speed across the training deck, aiming directly for Takeshi’s right hip. Takeshi heard him coming and he turned quickly so he could avoid the hit, but Michael had planned ahead for this, and Takeshi realized it too late. At the last second, just when Michael should have ran right past Takeshi, he turned his body mid-step and swung his leg out, and he caught Takeshi right in the gut. He sent Takeshi flying, and he landed a good ten feet away from where he’d been standing.

 

“I think that could work,” Michael observed.

 

“Yeah,” Takeshi groaned, “I dink you’re right.”

 

“I just need to get the right amount of spin in the step so I can hit him with enough force to knock him down,” Michael thought out loud as he practiced much gentler jumps with spins.

 

Takeshi stood up and stretched, easing the pain out of his torso. He strode back over to Michael, determined to get revenge for that move. Michael was completely distracted with his ballet-like twirls. Takeshi waited until he was facing the opposite direction, and then he pounced. He tackled Michael at the shoulders mid-twirl and brought him tumbling down. They landed in a tangled mess on the floor. Michael simply started laughing, finding the entire scene hilarious. Eventually, Takeshi started to laugh as well. He couldn’t help it - Michael’s laugh was too contagious.

 

“You think you’re so clever,” Michael said, “that was a really cheap shot, Takeshi.”

 

“You should know by now dat I’ll alvays take da cheap shots,” Takeshi retorted with a small laugh. Michael chuckled in response and surprised Takeshi with a little kiss on the cheek.

 

Takeshi’s face turned bright red and he stopped laughing. This only made Michael laugh more; he loved to startle Takeshi like this, but he tried not to do it in front of other people, per Takeshi’s request. Even though he seemed like an unstoppable stoic force, Michael knew it was only too easy to knock him off his game. A little kiss here, a wink there, maybe even a playful drop of a nickname - any of those would completely stop Takeshi in his tracks and he seemed to shut down. Takeshi regained his composure and shot Michael a dirty look.

 

“You dink you’re so clewer,” Takeshi retorted, spitting Michael’s own line back at him.

 

“I am clever!” Michael teased, and he kissed Takeshi’s other cheek before he stood up and dusted himself off. Takeshi’s face turned an even deeper red, and his eyes seemed to glaze over.

 

Michael started to walk away, but he stopped and called back to Takeshi, “It’s armor day today. You’d better come with me now or we won’t have our choice of color or style.”

 

Takeshi shook himself out of his stupor and leaped up to run after Michael, both flustered and fuzzy-hearted as he ran. It irked him to admit it, but Michael really knew how to throw him off his game, and there was just no way for Takeshi to change that.

 

╩ ╩ ╩

 

“Lookin’ good, soldier,” Carolina chimed, complementing Michael’s royal blue armor.

 

“Thank ya much, ma’am,” Michael teased back, tipping an imaginary hat, “You’re looking good yourself!” Carolina chuckled and continued on her way across the training deck. She had teal armor with a deep-set, metallic orange visor.

 

“You look good, too,” Michael observed when Takeshi walked up beside him.

 

Takeshi had chosen a suit of single-plated deep green armor with pastel pink trim. He was more than irked about the trim color, but his only other option for men’s armor in his size was a soft shade of fuchsia, which was definitely worse. When he’d asked about changing the color, the technician only laughed and left Takeshi with the green armor.

 

“Shaddap,” he groaned and shot a cold glare at Michael.

 

“I’ll kiss you in front of everyone if you’re gonna keep being so mean,” Michael teased. Takeshi only rolled his eyes.

 

“You vouldn’t do dat to me,” Takeshi retorted, now more focused on keeping Michael off of him than on his pink trim. Michael grinned as he realised his plan of misdirection had worked. Hopefully, the threat of a kiss in public would keep Takeshi distracted from his armor at least for the duration of morning training. He’d come up with something else during lunch, but this would do for now.

 

“Maine, nice armor,” Michael called to Maine. Maine hadn’t gotten a choice in armor, as there was only a single suit in his size. It was triple-plated and stark white with a metallic gold visor that covered most of his head. Maine nodded his thanks and joined Carolina, who was choosing a floor layout for combat training.

 

Florida and Wisconsin were the last Sergeants to the floor, as Wyoming had come in with Maine. The three of them were wearing single-plated royal blue armor, quadruple-plated neon green armor, and experimental flex-plated armor in off-white, respectively. Florida’s armor differed from Michael’s in that it had all sorts of weapons mounted to the outside: everything from grenades to extra mags for the new assault rifle that was strapped to his back. Takeshi was pretty sure there was also a stainless-steel combat axe fastened under the rifle. Leave it to the weapons specialist to go for overkill on his armor.

 

“Welly-well, there, Georgia, nice choice of suit there!” Wisconsin giggled in her light and bubbly voice. Michael sighed quietly as Takeshi mustered up a quiet “thanks”. Wisconsin didn’t notice Michael’s chagrin and joined Maine and Carolina. Flowers and Wyoming eventually found their way over to Michael and Takeshi, and the four discussed the unique assets of their armor.

 

Michael took heart in knowing that while Takeshi despised the accents on his armor, it did have some interesting and unique features that none of the others had, including an automatic propulsion unit and internal magazine storage. He would be able to navigate empty space without an external jetpack, and he could reload his firearm much more quickly than the others. Florida managed to eat up the rest of their free time before the Privates arrived by explaining in painful detail the function of every weapon and secret panel on his suit.

 

The Privates strolled into the training deck in one big pack, all dressed in their identical, gray under-armor bodysuits and standard black boots. They simultaneously rubbed sleep from their eyes at the sight of their C.O.’s bright armor and looked around as though questioning whether or not they’d come to the right deck. Carolina abandoned Wisconsin and Maine and took charge of the situation, instructing the Privates to head over to the open bay doors where technicians were waiting to get them suited with armor.

 

The day ended with a colorful pile of obliterated Privates moaning and groaning in pain as their C.O.’s chuckled at their absolute failure. It was more than humorous to Michael and Takeshi, who were beside themselves with laughter. Florida and Wisconsin were stifling chuckles at the sight, Maine was unamused, and Carolina could only stare in disbelief at how miserably the Privates had executed their training exercise. It had essentially been set up as high-stakes paintball, only instead of regular paint pellets, they were firing cement gum pellets. Any contact of the pellets would most likely debilitate the target and render them immobile until the round ended and the paint could be removed. Somehow, the Privates had all managed to get taken down by Florida and Takeshi.

 

“Dat - ahaha - vas so - ha - padetic!” Takeshi choked on his own laughter and held his aching stomach tightly. Michael wiped tears away from his eyes.

 

Wisconsin finally broke out in loud, braying laughter, and she caught Florida off-guard and caused him to break as well. Before long, the four were laughing so loudly that the sound was echoing off the walls in the training room. There wasn’t the faintest doubt in Takeshi’s mind that every single one of the Privates was embarrassed beyond belief.

 

Carolina triggered the release on the paint, and the large, concrete blobs dissolved into fluid around the Privates. She sighed deeply as they stretched out their joints and stiffly pulled themselves off the ground. “Get out. Tomorrow morning, o-five-hundred,” she commanded curtly. The recruits pulled their helmets off to reveal sweaty red faces, and they cleared the floor quicker than ever before.

 

“You were not helping at all,” Carolina chided, her frustration mainly aimed at Takeshi and Michael, who were still laughing.

 

“Oh, Lina,” Michael breathed between laughs, “I’m sorry, it’s just so amazing that they’re still so terrible!”

 

“Da, I voulda dought by now dey’d be a little bit better!” Takeshi wheezed.

 

“That’s what’s bothering me, dumbasses,” Carolina shot back, “It’s been almost two months. I expect more from them.”

 

“Kerolina, if dere’s one ding I know about training useless maggots, it’s dat you gotta play to deire strengtds first,” Takeshi said as he reigned in his chuckles.

 

“How do you propose we do that?” Carolina prodded.

 

“Vat are dey good at? Indiwidually?” Takeshi asked. Carolina thought for a moment.

 

“I see what you’re saying,” she considered aloud, “if we can get them to strengthen their personal skills, it could give them the confidence to apply themselves better during training.”

 

“Exactly,” Takeshi nodded, “Ve’ve just gotta figure out vat deire strengtds are.”

 

The team leaders all thought for a moment. Wisconsin was the first to contribute, “Well, Hawaii’s file says she’s multilingual, so I should focus her on some translation work and see what all she knows. I’m not entirely sure about Arizona, but I can find out pretty quickly.”

 

“Da, Kelifornia’s got a really tough arm on him,” Takeshi said, “I’m going to put him on some narcotics vork, see how he drows grenades and shit.”

 

“Excellent,” Carolina interjected, “I want everyone to determine the strengths of their teammates and put together ideas for honing those strengths. We’re going to spend the next two weeks focusing on their individual abilities and see if we can progress from there at all.”

 

“What a wonderful idea, Carolina!” Florida chimed in, giving Carolina a big thumbs up.

 

“Who’s up for grub?” Wisconsin asked. Takeshi and Maine grunted, and the others simply expressed their interest in various noises of agreement. They all left the training deck together and made their way to the dining hall, where their destroyed and dejected Privates were sadly shoveling food into their mouths.

 


	3. Bonus Phase: Slumberparty at Georgia's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Bonus Phases will be posted between Main Phases when I'm working on story progression. The Bonus Phases are still a part of the story, and I don't consider them as filler. Think of them as fun and indulgent scenes to break up the monotony of the military!)
> 
> Bonus Phase One: Michael and Takeshi accidentally have a sleepover in Takeshi's dorm while compiling training regimens for the Privates.

“Hey, Take-Chee,” Michael asked later that night, using one of his new nicknames, “what do you think Carolina meant when she said ‘new additions’?”

 

Michael and Takeshi were sprawled out in Takeshi’s dorm, books and digital surfaces scattered about the room. They were compiling a new training simulator for the Privates to use in their free time. It had been slow-going because they wanted to add elements that would challenge everyone, but it was difficult to make a cohesive course with such vastly different soldiers with such unique specialties. Takeshi and Michael had taken to spending all their free time together, devising new training techniques and regimens, or doing whatever else was required of them.

 

“Hmm,” Takeshi responded, “if I had to guess, vich you’re making me do, I’d say she must mean new recruits.”

 

“Ah,” Michael yawned, “that makes sense.” He slammed the book he’d been skimming shut and rifled around for a digital surface pad and pen. 

 

“You’re dinking about vat dey’ll be like, aren’t you?” Takeshi asked, knowing Michael’s insatiable curiosity could never rest.

 

“Yeah,” he answered, then paused for a bit to stare blankly at the screen, “I wonder if we’re gonna have to train these ones too.”

 

“Da, probably,” Takeshi grunted. He shifted slightly and knocked over a pile of books. Michael went to stack them back up, but Takeshi just grumbled and shook his head before he tried - and failed - to stifle a loud yawn.

 

Michael stood up slowly and stretched, making weird whining noises as he did so. His back cracked loudly and he sighed as he dropped his arms back down to his sides. “Do you still have those comfy pants?” he asked lazily. Takeshi nodded as he fought his eyelids, petitioning them to stay open as he continued to read. Michael dug through the dresser on the opposite wall until he found Takeshi’s soft, black harem pants. They were enormous on Takeshi and just a little too small on Michael. A couple of inches above his ankles showed when he put them on, but he couldn’t be bothered to care because they were just too comfortable. He stumbled over and collapsed next to Takeshi, half his body sprawled out on top of him. Takeshi shot Michael a narrow-lidded glare before he let his eyelids droop shut and he gave in to his fate. 

 

“I’m surprised dose pants still vit you,” Takeshi yawned. He could feel the mass of Michael’s muscular thighs against his own.

 

“Why?” Michael mumbled into his arms, not opening his eyes.

 

Takeshi shifted slightly and grabbed Michael’s right thigh tightly, “Da, you’re definitely getting stronger,” he concluded, returning to his previous position. Michael shrugged.

 

“That’s ‘cause I work out more than you do,” he responded. Takeshi shoved him.

 

Michael rolled off Takeshi, and soon Takeshi could hear him snoring. He thought about carrying Michael back to his own dorm, but he decided he didn’t have the energy for it. Instead he pulled up the room controls on his watch and flicked the lights off before he fell asleep. 

 

He woke up sometime in the middle of the night with a crick in his neck. He shoved a stack of books out of the way and grabbed pillows off his bed before returning to his spot on the floor. He thought about forcing one under Michael’s head, but again, he decided he didn’t have the energy to do so. Instead, he buried himself in his pillows and tried to fall asleep. Michael must have felt him move, because he snorted softly and rolled over. One big, pale hand reached across Takeshi and grabbed him around the middle. Michael pulled Takeshi toward his chest and nuzzled his back. Takeshi was trapped against Michael, and it was warm and comfortable. He leaned into the embrace and fell asleep in no time.

 

When they awoke in the morning to Takeshi’s alarm blaring, their bodies were completely intertwined. At some point, Michael had stolen both of the pillows from Takeshi and flung one of them halfway across the room while the other one was tucked nicely below his head. Michael had also rolled over, while holding tightly to Takeshi, so Takeshi had spent most of the night sleeping on top of Michael. 

 

“Nothing says ‘good morning!’ quite like a crushing weight on your chest and an alarm drilling into your brain,” Michael yawned, squeezing Takeshi gently.

 

“You’re da one who pulled me ower like dis,” Takeshi responded softly. 

 

“You liked it,” Michael smiled, his eyes still closed tightly.

 

“Vatever,” Takeshi muttered, settling his head on Michael’s chest.

 

“Carolina was right about you,” Michael mumbled.

 

“Hmm?” Takeshi inquired through his stupor.

 

“You are whipped,” he teased. Takeshi growled and batted at Michael’s face. Michael only laughed. Takeshi snorted.

 

“Da, vell, Balthazar vas right about you too,” he said, his voice muffled by Michael’s chest.

 

“How’s that?” Michael asked, genuinely curious.

 

“You are stupid.” A wide and evil grin spread across Takeshi’s face, and he felt Michael chuckle softly under him.


	4. UPDATE - Hiatus and New Works

Hello all!  
I want to start this off with a sincere and humble "thank you" to everyone who is a fan of this story. I had so much fun writing what's been published so far, but this story has proven to be a valuable lesson to me: write lots before you start posting. I've been sitting on some serious writer's block combined with the RVB hiatus, which has been keeping me away from this story. I've been putting a lot of work into some other stories at the moment, and while I know this is probably very disappointing to hear, I am very excited to share the new stories I've been focusing on.   
Thank you to everyone who is a fan of this story, and I'd like to throw a promise out there that, when I feel I can continue it well, I will! For now, consider this particular work on hiatus indefinitely.


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